by Megan Curd
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
“You can sleep. I’ll make sure she’s okay,” Jaxon whispered for what seemed the thousandth time.
Our body heat and the warmth of the overstuffed duvet had quelled Alice’s shivering for the most part. After Jaxon quizzed her on her name and where she was from, he was satisfied that she was okay and allowed her to sleep.
My eyes fought to stay open. “I’m fine.”
“You look like death,” Jaxon said simply, with no malice in his voice. “There’s no reason for you to become an insomniac. Sleep.”
“Alice is my friend. I need to take care of her.”
There was no hesitation in Jaxon’s response. “And you’re my friends. I can take care of both of you.”
Jaxon reached his arm around Alice. His fingers found my jaw line and he strained to trace the length of it with his fingertip. His expression was pained, as though he were doing something that caused him physical harm. “Look Avery, I’m not used to this stuff. I’m not good with relationships.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
“But neither are you.”
Alice stirred and separated our embrace. It was a relief. Even with our physical touch severed, the tension in the air lingered like a corporeal being.
Jaxon looked at me with a hunger I hadn’t seen before, and I was powerless to fight the depth of his stormy blue eyes. They were a maelstrom I couldn’t avoid. Or maybe the problem was I didn’t want to avoid them.
I said the only thing I could think of.
“I need to pee.”
Jaxon laughed and closed his eyes long enough to break the hold he had on me. He readjusted, careful to not wake Alice.
My fingers searched for the edge of the sheets. I hadn’t realized how warm I was until I pulled away the covers. Part of me wanted to dive right back into the odd Alice sandwich that provided me with enough distance from Jaxon to feel close, but still be safe. The other part of me felt horrible and a little weird for using Alice as a human barrier.
She’d probably laugh and harass me to kingdom come if she had been in any shape to know what was going on.
My feet hit the carpet and I sat there on the edge of the bed, my back turned to Jaxon and Alice, as I mulled things over. “Why are you being so nice, Jaxon?”
“Am I not allowed to be nice?”
“It’s not that…”
“You don’t think I’m nice.”
“Not really, no.”
Jaxon laughed. “Well, I promise I haven’t eaten any little children for lunch since I was twelve. Gave it up for Lent and decided to stick to it.”
“You’re kind of sick.”
“Riggs is my dad.” He said it as though it would explain any oddity he had.
I guess in a way it did.
Jaxon’s voice filled the void. “Read some of the journal while you’re up.”
The comment made me laugh and I turned to look at him. “Did you just suggest toilet reading? I didn’t know we were that close.”
Jaxon shrugged, his expression grim. “I’d use it as toilet paper if I could.”
“Why would you share something with me if it’s that horrible?”
“You deserve to know, especially now that Alice is tracked.”
“What do you mean?”
Jaxon shifted uncomfortably. “My arm’s going to sleep,” he muttered.
“What did you mean by the Alice comment?”
Jaxon’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and it reminded me of the first day I met him. God, it felt like a lifetime ago. He pulled the comforter up to Alice’s neck as he sat up and rested his back against the headboard. “I think she’s going through some of the same things I did when I was younger, that’s all. Read the journal.”
I walked quietly to my nightstand on the opposite side of the bedroom. The leather bound journal sat with my father’s reconstructed watch on top of it. I showed the watch to Jaxon. “You shouldn’t have stolen the watch, you know.”
Jaxon’s eyes widened. “I didn’t steal your watch.”
“You don’t have to lie about it. You helped Alice, I’ll let you off the hook this one time.”
“As much as I appreciate the gesture, I didn’t steal it,” Jaxon said earnestly. “Can I keep the forgiveness for a rainy day? I’m sure there’s plenty more times I’ll irritate you and need a get out of jail free card.”
I shook my head and tucked the book underneath the crook of my arm. “Whatever, Jaxon.”
Without another word, I left him sitting there looking half-amused and half-concerned. Amused I’d seen on him before. Concerned, well, that was a new one.
***
I didn’t really have to go to the bathroom. What I needed was an excuse to get away from my unexplainable desire to touch Jaxon’s face, chest, any part of him. Being so close to him in the bed made me uneasy and tingly and excited all at once.
The journal that Jaxon had implored me to read sat before me on the coffee table, the little leather strap untied. The worn cover beckoned me to open it. It felt like an intrusion of privacy to read Jaxon’s innermost thoughts, but he had told me to, so that made it okay, right? I rocked back and forth as I sat on my hands, trying to convince myself I didn’t care what Jaxon’s past held.
To stave off the moment, I walked to the other side of the room and started a fire. It spluttered and fought for life when I attempted to make it with logs and matches. I grew tired of hoping it would become a full-fledged fire, so I focused on the glow of the embers and imagined the fire in the library. The flames quickly blossomed, and I was pleased to find that I wasn’t tired from using my ability.
Smug with my success, I curled up on the couch and pulled the journal onto my lap. I took great care not to tear the water-stained pages as I opened the journal.
The smooth, elegant handwriting on the first page indicated that this was not, in fact, Jaxon’s journal, but Riggs’s. When I turned the page, more of Riggs’s aristocratic calligraphy filled the pages and every few lines, a scrawl of Jaxon’s was thrown in.
Atticus Riggs, M.D., Ph. D.
Journal Number One of Thirty-Seven
11 June, 2077 — 14 July, 2078
11 June, 2019
Jaxon turned five yesterday, and today begins his acclimation training (I was told it was Army games). While apprehensive, I have high hopes for his transitioning to low oxygen levels. If we can prove that humans can withstand the once conceived physiological limits, we may be able to save our world as we know it. At the current time, the average oxygen level for a human being is twelve to fourteen kPa. I am hoping to see Jaxon withstand three kPa by the end of these tests. A medical patient with a kPa below eight is considered extremely low currently. To continue to survive on the Earth, we will need to be able to survive with much less oxygen.
12 August, 2019
Jaxon managed to remain conscious through extremely low oxygen levels (4.42 kPa) before succumbing to arrhythmia. We reinstated the oxygen levels and brought him back with a defibrillator. Jaxon was scared and confused, but I assured him he was safe (It was a LIE.). We will take a day off before introducing him to the carbon monoxide testing.
24 December, 2019
I was instructed not to address the test subject by his first name in these journals. Therefore he will be called Subject 1 (S1). Today S1 (MY NAME IS JAXON, DAD. JAXON.) will be introduced to low levels of carbon monoxide, as our world is dealing with higher levels and our numbers are dwindling from the phenomenon. Studies place low oxygen levels and heightening carbon monoxide levels hand in hand. To survive, we must be able to adapt. S1 is our first and only hope (Lab rat) at the current time.
8 February, 2020
S1 was given forty percent carboxyhemoglobin (COhb). While it’s below the assumed amount required to cause loss of consciousness, S1 passed out after three hours of exposure (I remember the room. It was all white and one-way glass covered one wall. I remember banging
on that glass and choking on my own blood after I bit my tongue. I never saw who was on the other side of the glass, but I remember calling for Mom. She never came. No one ever came.). S1 also experienced convulsions while passed out. When resuscitated, S1 experienced extreme paranoia over having repeated exposure to the elements (I WONDER WHY, DAD.). S1’s eyes were extremely bloodshot from a severe breakdown, and he eventually required sedation.
As I turned the pages of Jaxon’s so-called journal, my stomach roiled and I fought back the bile that crept up my throat. My eyes burned with tears that overflowed unchecked onto my cheeks. Each entry was less fatherly, less caring, and more scientific. More apathetic.
How could a father do that to his son?
I quit reading every entry when my own tears splashed down onto already water-stained pages. In my haste to end the sick introduction to Jaxon’s life, I flipped to the last page.
14 July, 2020
We have successfully acclimated S1 to functioning on 2.55 kPa and 85% COhb. It is scientifically possible to alter our bodies to accept the low oxygen and high carbon monoxide levels. How low we can go will require further testing (torture). We will continue to push S1’s abilities and see how long he is able to maintain prolonged exposure to these harsh environments over his prepubescent years. Soon we will be able to begin testing on adults. (Starting with who?)
I snapped the book shut, closed my eyes tight, and leaned back into the suddenly too-soft couch. Everything seemed too much. This place, this couch, this ability of mine. Everything that Jaxon had written and crossed out in his father’s journal, it all made it clear how he became what he was today. His father had hurt him beyond what anyone should have to endure. The one person Jaxon should have been able to count on for safety was the one who hurt him the most. No wonder he lashed out at everyone.
No wonder he didn’t need a mask to breathe in our dome.
Riggs had made him capable of surviving in the harshest of environments. I flipped back to the page that described his eyes. Bloodshot.
Alice’s eyes.
Was Riggs putting her through the same torture that Jaxon had been forced to endure?
The click of the door turning made me jump, and I shoved the journal under a massive throw pillow as I turned to find Sari coming in.
She let out a long exhale as she hung her bag on the hook that situated by the door. “Avery, I’m so glad you’re here. Was Alice okay?”
I swallowed hard. “Riggs put a tracker in her.”
“I had a bad feeling about her not showing up after you mentioned it,” Sari said. She kicked the corner of the couch as she plopped down in the easy chair beside me. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, revealing even more smudged ink in her palms than the last time I saw her. Her eyes were rimmed with red, probably from staring at a computer screen for too long.
She shook her head in frustration. “Damn. Double damn. How’d she take it? Does she know what it means?”
“I’m pretty sure she knows it’s not a good thing. She’s in the bedroom sleeping it off,” I said grimly, my mind returning to Alice huddled in the shower and the hollow look in her eyes. Before I could cry, I motioned to the scribbles on her palms. “What’d you find out today? The skeleton of massive proportions?”
Sari went and grabbed a thick blanket from the basket beside the fire. She threw it over the coffee table, and I gave her a look that questioned her sanity. Her voice was barely audible over the sounds of the fireplace, and I strained to catch her words. “First off, anything that ticks, anything that has moving parts, could be a device to listen in on us. So that,” she jerked her head in the direction of the blanketed coffee table, “is a very minor attempt to make it less possible to hear us.”
She stood up and pulled me toward the kitchen, the whole time whispering. “Riggs wasn’t always so, you know…” she waggled her fingers in front of her like the boogey man, “weird.”
“That’s a tame word for him.”
“Well, you know what I mean.” Sari rolled her eyes and pushed the single braid away from her face as she continued on. “Anyway, he used to be against the Resistance that he now supports. Alice was right; he was a special operations officer. It was like a light switch changed after his oldest son was injured badly in the war, trying to end the Resistance’s regime. No one has seen that son since.”
A bitter taste filled my mouth. I put my head in my hands and leaned against the granite countertops for support. Groaning, I pressed my palms into my eyes until I saw red. “I’ve seen him.”
“Wait, what? You’ve seen the other son? I couldn’t even find his name on any records. How do you know it was him?”
I opened my eyes wearily. This place held so many secrets. I missed the straightforward simplicity of home. “He was burned by radiation. His skin isn’t even really skin anymore. He acted really weird, too.”
“Really weird? Come on, I need more information than that.”
“What is this, twenty questions?” I snapped, but then realized how horrible I sounded. I looked at Sari apologetically. “I’m sorry. Today’s been awful.”
Sari stood and put her hand on my shoulder. “Well, I hate to be the one to give you more bad news, but Riggs has been testing your blood for clues to your ability.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’ve never given Riggs any blood.”
“But you gave Xander two bags full. Xander reports to Riggs, so if Riggs wanted some blood—”
“All he’d have to do is ask for it,” I finished.
Sari pointed a finger at me like a pointed gun and made the shooting noise. “Bingo. And now Alice has the tracker. I’m wondering if he’ll test your blood on her.”
“But how would Riggs know about the blood? I mean, Xander isn’t going to tell Riggs we saved Legs.”
“True,” Sari said with a frown. “Look, I’m the computer nerd. I get the dirt. I never said I knew how to piece it together.”
“Do you want to go see Legs?” I asked abruptly. “I could use a change of scenery. Or even go sneak to see my parents again…” I trailed off, hopeful.
Sari looked toward my bedroom, her expression conflicted. “I think I’ll stay here and look out for Alice.”
“Jaxon’s back there with her.”
Sari’s eyebrows rose. “You hadn’t thought to mention that tidbit before now?”
“It’s not like that.”
She smiled. “No, because that’s what you want, right?”
I felt my face go hot. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. The tension between you two is so thick you could smother someone with it.”
“Just come with me, please? And don’t say another word about Jaxon or I’ll have to smother you.”
Sari laughed. “You know, you two are the only good thing going on in this place.”
“That doesn’t give me much hope for an upturn in our luck.”
“Any good luck is better than none,” she said with a yawn. “I’m gonna stay. Take Jaxon with you. I don’t want you out in the halls by yourself. All these secrets make me nervous. I feel like there’s way more to this place than I’ve uncovered, and I want to figure out what it is that we’re missing.”
“And how do you plan on doing that? We don’t have any privacy.”
Sari turned and pointed to her bag, hanging by the entry. “You may not have any privacy, but I do. My laptop can circumvent the firewalls and privacy protectors that are in place.”
I shook my head, because Sari never ceased to amaze me, and because the use of banned technology here still baffled me. “You’re handy to have around, you know that?”
She bowed, complete with an over exaggerated flourish of her hand. “At your service, madam. Now go on your date with Jax.”
“This is definitely not a date!”
“Sure, sure, whatever you say, Juliet. Go get him and get out of here.”
I slid my hand under the throw pillow where Jaxon’s journal lay hidd
en. The soft leather brushed my fingertips, and I shuddered thinking about what was inside. There was nothing comforting about this book. I wondered what the other journals held if this was the first year of Jaxon’s horrific testing.
Sari’s eyes slid to the journal, and her face soured. “Makes you think Jax might not be so awful, doesn’t it?”
I understood what she was talking about. She had a sage-like aura, and when she spoke again, her words struck a chord. “No one is ever too far gone for redemption, if there’s just one person to help them get there.”
“Not even Riggs?”
Sari cocked her head slightly and shrugged. “I’d like to think he’s capable of changing. He altered his course once, why not do it again?”
“Those are some rose colored glasses you have on.”
“Only when I’m particularly nostalgic,” Sari said with a smirk. “You caught me at the end of the day. I’m at my most pensive then.”
There was so much I didn’t know about Sari. When we had time, I would ask her to tell me more, if she was willing to share.
I lifted the journal and displayed it like an excuse. “I should probably go.”
Sari nodded, and we both headed to my bedroom. It was foreign to feel as though I had friends. It was something I could get used to.
The door was slightly ajar when we reached it and while the lights were off, I heard whispers. We both stopped and looked at each other, and Sari nodded as if to confirm that she wanted to eavesdrop. Little sneak. I suppose it was natural, considering her job was to hack into places she shouldn’t be in the first place.
It was hard to miss the reassuring cadence of Jaxon’s words. “It’ll be okay, I promise,” he whispered gently. “It only hurts the first few times. Then your body gets used to it.”
“But what if I don’t want to get used to it?”
“Hopefully you won’t have to. I’m figuring out a way to escape.”
There was a shuffle and a rustle of covers. I glanced at Sari, who put a finger to her lips. She wasn’t finished listening. I felt a little guilty for doing this, but I’d never seen this side of Jaxon. I didn’t want him to go back to his usual snide earlier than he needed to.
